Hell, Connor’s not even into guys, and even if he was, he’s definitely not allowed to be intome.
Connor nods before asking, “What areas do you think you need the most help with?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Considering I’m currently ranked number one, I really don’t know. Guess that’s where you come in.”
“You’re ranked number one inbankedslalom,” he remindsme. “That’s a race against you and the clock since no one else is on the course at the same time,” he points out.
“Speed is speed,” I tell him.
Connor and I are locked in a stare-off, with him trying to figure out how to read me and me trying to figure out how I feel about this surreal moment, but before either of us can make much progress, Renner returns to the table with a tray full of food.
He plops a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon in front of me.
“Thought you might want to eat before the tourist rush gets down here and clogs the lines.”
“Thanks,” I say sincerely, pulling the plate of food toward me.
I go through the motions of chewing and swallowing while Renner does a much better job of answering Connor’s questions and acting like he’s grateful for this opportunity.
The longer I sit face-to-face with Connor Lang, the more apparent it becomes that I need answers from him before I’ll trust him with my training. So, when Renner finishes breakfast and his conversation with Connor, and moves on to talk to Coach Fuller, I seize my opportunity.
“Where the hell did you go?” I ask, more rudely than the situation calls for.
Connor’s coffee mug pauses halfway to his sinful mouth.
“Go?” he asks, though the tension in his jaw and the creases in the corners of his eyes tell me he knows exactly what I’m referring to.
“You won two gold medals, and then suddenly, you were gone. Pulled out of every event, walked away from your sponsorships; your social media wiped. What the hell happened?” I demand.
If I’m not mistaken, Connor loses a bit of color in his cheeks.
“Just needed a break, is all.” There’s no conviction in his voice when he says it, making it clear he’s lying.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me your darkest secrets, but how am I supposed to trust you with my training if I don’t know anything about you?”
Chewing on his lip, Connor says, “I was born in Colorado. My parents run a distillery. I’m allergic to dogs and shellfish. And I’m an only child. Satisfied?” he quips with a bite.
Okay, so he’s an asshole. Oh well, better to know now before I get invested.
“Nothing I didn’t already know from your Wikipedia page, but thanks.”
I stand to take my mostly empty plate to the trash when Connor says, “Vox, wait.”
I turn to look at him, the thirteen-year-old inside me pleading for him to make it better.Be the man I’ve always thought you were.For a brief second, he looks like he’s about to offer an apology or an explanation, but as quickly as the look was there, it’s gone. His features are back to blank, revealing nothing. Our moment has passed.
“Look, Montgomery. I’m here to do a job, and that job is to ensure you bring home more wins. I can make you a better athlete, but we don’t need to be friends for that.”
Well, alrighty then.
“Hell, I don’t even need you as acoachfor that, but thanks for proving my original theory correct.”
I’m better off on my own.
Chapter 4
Connor
Before I’d even arrived in Ricochet Ridge, Grey warned me Vox doesn’t love change, and he loves new people even less, but I didn’t expect him to jump right to the heart of my most closely guarded secrets the first second we were alone. His arrogance truly knows no bounds, and he’s going to make a lot of enemies in this sport if he hasn’t already.
